


Early One Morning

by wesleysgirl



Series: Sentinel series for Jane Davitt's birthdays [1]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-07
Updated: 2007-05-07
Packaged: 2017-11-06 04:17:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/414610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wesleysgirl/pseuds/wesleysgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Jane Davitt's birthday 2007.<br/>Many thanks to mmmchelle for the beta!</p>
    </blockquote>





	Early One Morning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JaneDavitt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JaneDavitt/gifts).



> Jane Davitt's birthday 2007.  
> Many thanks to mmmchelle for the beta!

Jim woke up alone in the new house.

That was weird enough on its own -- usually, Blair was sprawled next to him in bed. Sometimes Blair was even on top of him.

Not that Jim minded.

But it was Sunday morning, the morning they usually slept in, and he could tell by the thin sunshine around the edges of the window shade that it was still early. And when he listened, really listened, he could hear the chirping of birds just a little too loudly, as if the front door was open.

Grumbling, Jim got up and pulled on his robe, muttering to himself as he went downstairs. The third one from the bottom creaked, and he made a mental note to look into fixing it before it became something he was so used to that it wasn't worth the trouble anymore.

Sure enough, the front door was wide open, the screen keeping insects out, at least, but not doing a thing to keep out the brisk morning air that was making the first floor of the house bracingly cold.

Jim shoved the screen door open and stepped out on the porch. There were no neighbors to see -- the closest house was half a mile away. That was one of the things Blair had insisted upon when they'd started looking, and somehow they'd managed to find a house that lived up to Blair's many expectations. "Chief?"

Blair was on his knees on the front lawn, facing the steps, with a collection of window boxes scattered around him. On his right was a large bag of potting soil -- Jim could smell it, earthy and dark -- and on his left were flats that contained an assortment of brightly-colored flowers. His hands were covered with dirt, and there was a smudge of it along the upper edge of one ear where Jim imagined he'd pushed his hair back.

"Jim." Blair looked surprised to see him. "Man, I thought I'd have all of this done before you got up."

"What _is_ all of this?" Jim asked, even though what he was really asking was _Why the hell are you wasting time with flowers?_

"I just thought I'd, you know, make the place look nice," Blair said.

"For who?" Jim asked, looking around. "We're the only ones who see it. Unless you've developed a secret crush on the mailman."

"Yeah, that's it," Blair said, itching his nose and leaving a smudge of dirt there, too. "This is all part of my nefarious plan to seduce postal workers." He rolled his eyes and shoved another small flowering green thing into the dirt in one of the window boxes.

Jim frowned and leaned against the porch rail. "What if it turns out I'm allergic to this stuff?" Hey, it could happen.

"The plants have been in the mudroom since Friday afternoon," Blair said, sounding smug. "I figured if you hadn't noticed by now, they probably wouldn't bother you."

Fair enough. Still. "They're awfully... pink. And aren't we going to have to water them?"

"Jim. We _live_ together. We sleep in the same bed. We have _sex_." Blair licked his lips in a way that was probably unconscious but which served to remind Jim of the things Blair could do with that tongue. "Are you seriously telling me that you're worried people will think you're gay because of _pink flowers_?"

"I'm not worried they'll think I'm gay," Jim said. "I'm worried they'll think I have bad taste."

Blair glared at him, then went back to his work. "I thought it would be _nice_ , okay?" He sounded frustrated.

Jim blinked at the tone of Blair's voice. He'd thought they were just goofing around the way they always did; he hadn't realized Blair was taking this so seriously. "Hey," he said. "Sandburg." When Blair refused to look up, he tried, "Blair."

The look Blair gave him then was wary, for the first time in a long time, and Jim's heart clenched in his chest. He was down the steps and kneeling in the grass before he'd realized he'd started to move, his hands grabbing onto Blair's. He didn't care that he was getting dirty, he didn't care about the feel of the crushed, slightly damp grass beneath his bare knees. He didn't care about anything but doing whatever it took to get that look off Blair's face.

"I'm sorry," Jim said. "I didn't mean it like that."

"Didn't you?" Blair looked at him, though, _really_ looked at him, like he wanted Jim to make it better. Like he _trusted_ Jim to make it better, and that was so reassuring that Jim's breath all went out of him in a rush.

"No," Jim said. "I'm a jerk. It's great. Plant as many pink flowers as you want."

Blair glanced up at him. "What about purple?" He was smiling now, just a little bit.

"Sure. Pink with purple polkadots. Whatever makes you happy." Jim meant it as much as he'd ever meant anything.

"I don't know, Jim," Blair said, sighing. "Pink with purple polkadots? Isn't that kind of gay?"

"Yeah," Jim said. "But don't you think they'd fit right in?" He kissed Blair right there among the flowers, and, more importantly, Blair kissed him back.


End file.
